Laundry Day
by chupacabras
Summary: Straight-up Caryl fluff, one shot. Set after Grady, Daryl wants to do laundry, Carol wants to tease him.


_Disclaimer: I own nothing related to the walking dead, please don't sue me, lol._

"Give me your pants."

Daryl groaned internally the instant the words were out of his mouth. Carol wasn't going to let that slide and he never knew how to respond when she got flirty. Without his permission, his hands began to fidget.

Carol turned and faced him, her lips twisting playfully. "Wow, well, if that's the way you feel-" She shrugged and started pretending to undo her khakis. Daryl felt his face growing hot.

"No-I mean-" He gave her an exasperated glance and willed his hands to stop moving. "I'm doing laundry. I meant _those_ pants." He gestured to her other pair, a grungy pant leg hanging from her backpack.

Carols expression grew even more playful. "YOU? Doing laundry?"

He scoffed. "Not like I've never done the washin b'fore."

She squinted, looking at his dirty outfit with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Are you sure?"

He rolled his eyes. "Stop."

Carol pressed her lips together, hiding a smile, they had been on the move for days since the hospital tragedy. So far personal hygiene had not been high on anyone's to-do list, but that's not to say that she and Tara hadn't been loudly lamenting the level of stink that was permeating camp.

It was just such a relief to find something lighthearted to talk about for a minute. Even if Rick looked slightly offended when Tara suggested that a family of birds could be living in his beard and no one would be able to tell.

In any case, Daryl was the last person she'd thought would volunteer for clean-up.

She tossed him the pants and he caught them, slinking off before she could tease him further.

After an hour had passed Carol decided to head to the creek to see how things were going. She felt somewhat at ease for the first time since she could remember, the area they had chosen to make camp was secluded. They had seen hardly any walkers and the sound of the water was sweet and calming.

She found Daryl in the shade, he was leaning against a tree by the water. The warmth and quiet of the woods had rendered him sleepy and if he heard her approaching, he didn't let on until she flopped down beside him on the grassy bank.

"So." She said, bumping her uninjured shoulder against his lightly. "How's it going?"

"Hmm." He murmured, still caught in the grasp of thoughts and sunlight.

"The laundry." She reminded, looking around. There was no sign of any clothing, had he already dried it and taken it back to camp without her noticing?

"Oh-" He scrambled upright suddenly "Shit!"

Carol was on her feet in an instant, glancing around the forest, slightly alarmed. "What?"

He stared dejectedly into the water. "It was right here."

Carol peered at him. "Wha-" A grin began to tug at the corners of her mouth and Daryl put his hand up, covering his face.

"You…" She started.

"Stop." He cut her off.

Her grin was a reality and he glanced at her, he had never allowed himself to name why, but it was rare that he could resist looking at her when she was smiling.

"Daryl - you don't just throw the clothes in the creek and hope for the best-" Carol laughed, "That's not how laundry works-"

He shook his head. "I KNOW that. I was just lettin' 'em soak… I didn't think about the current…" He trailed off as she kept laughing. He knew his face was flushed red.

"S'not funny," He grumbled. "Michonnes favorite vest was in there. She's gonna cut me to pieces when she hears."

Carol's laughter subsided and she patted him on the arm. Her hand felt startlingly warm on his skin and he jumped slightly at the touch, resolutely staring at the spot in the creek where the clothes had been, feeling her eyes on him as color swept up his neck, betraying him.

"Come with me." She teased, unable to resist. "You're suddenly so into chores, I'll teach you how to sew and we'll make her a new one."

Daryl sighed and she relented.

"Oh stop." She murmured, her hand back on his arm. This time he didn't flinch. "Why'd you want to wash clothes, anyway?"

Daryl sat back down at the waters edge. "Dunno." He muttered. "Wanted to make myself useful." Carol snorted and sat down next to him, her knee touching his. "You catch dinner almost every night. I think that's making yourself pretty useful."

He shrugged and started mumbling about helping out and injuries. She glanced at him. Her bruises were fading but apparently her attempts to hide how badly her shoulder still ached had not been good enough.

"…Heard ya and Tara complainin'…Just wanted to do somethin' nice." He trailed off, looking at his hands.

"You were doing this for me?" Carol raised an eyebrow. He looked embarrassed and was quiet for a moment.

"Don't ya got anything better to do than bug me, anyway?" He snapped finally.

Carol feigned a look around the woods. "Well, if the water were deeper, we could go skinny dipping…" She smirked at him.

"Pshh." Daryl bumped her arm but he was trying to hide a smile.

They leaned back against the tree as the afternoon sun lulled them into a dreamy state.

Carol stretched out her arms lazily and yawned. "Dammit-" Daryl started, stifling one of his own.

"…Contagious."

"Mmm." She murmured, too sleepy to retort. Her head slipped sideways and she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. It was something rare to feel a moment of peace and they both drifted in it quietly, the laundry floating onward, forgotten, as Carol slipped into a nap.

Downstream, a hopelessly muddy vest found itself tangled in a mess of cattails at the waters edge and Michonne glowered at it for a second before plucking it out of the creek and turning on her heel, starting up the bank.

_"__**DIXON**__…"_


End file.
